


Running Out of Time

by CelesteSkyeHolmes



Category: SKAM (France), SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Matchmaking, Other, Pining, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 06:10:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18654526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelesteSkyeHolmes/pseuds/CelesteSkyeHolmes
Summary: Imane was fine until she broke up with Sofiane, that's when the fantasies started happening. She turns to Manon for advice, but little does she know her friend's true intentions - or Eliott's past that puts all their relationships in jeopardy.Post 4x04, alternative ending for the series.





	1. Just Give Me More Time

**Author's Note:**

> While the heart of this story will always be with Norway's Yousef and Sana, this is a cheekier, SKAM France alternative to the karaoke apocalypse and some unanswered story lines. All chapter titles are from "Time" by Colouring, a song that I feel encapsulates Imane and Sofiane's relationship. Enjoy!

_“Mama, you’re doing it wrong.”_

_It was only when she finished her twirl that she could see the boy scrunching his nose before her. A strand of his dark, tousled hair crept over his forehead as he began to laugh._

_“Maybe we should help her,” the man standing beside him said._

_He kissed the child’s cheek before walking through the hallway to greet her._

_His fingers laced through hers immediately as his body enveloped her. She could recognise his touch from anywhere, and didn’t need to look into his warm eyes to know who he was._

**_Sofiane._ **

_His proximity smelt like the petrichor, leaving fresh traces of his scent on her exposed forearms. Meeting him was always a revelation to her senses, awakening her nerves as a reminder that she was very much alive. And ever so grateful to have him._

_“Bonjour ma chérie,” he whispered into her ear. “Will you dance with me?”_

_She nodded, smiling as he waltzed her across the living room. They turned across the room a few times before he twirled her._

_“Lean against me,” he instructed as the boy watched them with intrigue. “I promise I won’t lose you.”_

_Surely, she followed his instructions and felt his sturdy arms against the small of her back. While they held the pose, all she could hear were faded voices around them. Lights flashed between them as his mouth moved._

_“Are we out of time?” he asked._

_She heard him muffle, “What about-”_

_But he never finished his sentence._

…

“Imane!” she heard her name being repeated.

When she opened her eyes, Manon was huddled over her, frowning.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “You were gone for a few hours.”

“I’m just tired,” Imane said. “What happened?”

“You said that you wanted to go to the café, came over to my house, and then just fell asleep. I was beginning to think you’d miss the whole day.”

Imane sat upright on the couch, processing the daylight that streamed through the dining room windows. It took her a moment to recall her dream, _Sofiane_ , and everything that had happened that night. She had barely slept this week, constantly haunted by dreams of what they could be. What she had, and what she had done.

“I’m sorry,” Imane said. “I should probably go home.”

“Something happened,” Manon said. “You can talk to me.”

“It’s nothing,” she insisted. “Just the Bac-”

Manon sat beside her, “Imane, you don’t have to lie to me. I understand if you need to be alone, but I’m also here if you need someone.”

Imane met Manon’s gaze and sighed. Her friend smiled at her, and after some consideration, she decided that it was time.

“Do you remember when you asked me if I liked a boy?” Imane asked.

She nodded, recalling the incident in the cafeteria.

“It’s Sofiane, isn’t it?” she asked.

Imane raised her eyebrows in shock, “How did you know?”

Manon shrugged, “Sometimes you can just tell. There were moments when we were with the girls, and I noticed you smiling at your phone. It was just brief moments, but he seemed to make you really happy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything else that brought you the same kind of joy.”

This made Imane laugh, as she hugged Manon.

“You knew all along, didn’t you?” Imane teased.

“Maybe,” Manon mused. “But what happened between you two?”

Imane disclosed the entirety of her relationship with Sofiane, as Manon listened.

“Whenever I’m home, I just worry that he’ll show up. I don’t even know what to say.”

“You can’t avoid him forever,” Manon said, resting her head on Imane’s shoulder. “If you really cared about him, you would consider his feelings too. Besides, it’s better to tell him that you need space. It would prevent him from drawing his own conclusions, which are probably worse than whatever your intentions were.”

“Then how am I supposed to get over him?” Imane asked. “The more I see him, the harder it is to walk away.”

“Why are you so sure that you need to get over him?”

“What other choice is there?”

Manon sighed. “I can’t promise you that there is one, but avoiding him obliterates any possibility that there might be something. Could you really live with yourself, knowing that you destroyed every chance to be with him?”

Imane lowered her eyes, “That was pretty cruel, wasn’t it?”

Manon pursed her lips, and they laughed.

“So, how is he?” Imane asked. “I mean, is he doing okay?”

“That, my friend, is something you should ask him yourself.”

Imane shook her head, as the gravity of her actions began to dawn upon her.

“I hope you realise that if you keep pushing him away, he might not come back,” Manon continued. “And you might not want that.”

With that, they left the apartment for some afternoon tea. The walk would be quiet, as regret befell Imane  

…

“So you just blocked him?” Manon asked.

“Deleted, but I know,” Imane buried her face in her hands. “I didn’t know what to say. It’s not like I wanted to leave, there’s just no compromise.”

Manon brushed her arm, “Again, you don’t know that. Nor do you have authority to speak on his behalf. He really likes you, I’m sure he’d understand.”

“But his face - Manon - you should’ve seen him. When he asked if it was me or my religion that was keeping us apart, part of me just broke. I can’t do that to him.”

“You already have,” she said, biting into her biscuit.

…

They strolled out of the café, and walked down the avenue. The shops were empty, causing Manon’s words to sting more, as they hung in the stillness. With them echoed Sofiane’s words.

_Qu’est ce qu’on fait? What do we do about us?_

She didn’t know the answer, but she was certain of one thing. The man walking towards them in the grey hoodie was Sofiane.


	2. Break My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What would it take for us to be together?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to rewrite 4x05 because we all deserved better. Please let me know what you think!

A gentle heat radiated through his body at the sight of her, pricking at his heart only when he remembered what she had done. Sofiane had not heard from her in days, and panicked when he discovered that she had unfollowed him on Instagram. She had called him one of the best people that she knew a week ago, yet it was followed by radio silence.

So he watched her eyes shift as she looked away timidly, trying to find the answers that were never given. To understand that the curve of her smile was not enough to settle her doubts. To discover if anything might.

A voice interrupted his thoughts before either of them could speak. He turned to face Manon, whose presence had gone wholly unnoticed during the ordeal.

Manon smirked, “Sofiane, we were just talking about you. I’ll just leave you two alone.”

With that, she turned on her heel and walked away.

He turned to Imane in disbelief, amazed at the presence he had missed for so long.

“I’m so sorry,” she began. “You probably hate me, and I wouldn’t blame you. I just don’t know what to say.”

“I don’t hate you,” he said. “But I do have questions. How about we go for a walk and figure things out? Together this time.”

She nodded as they walked towards the local park.

…

“What would it take for us to be together?” Sofiane asked.

They were seated on a park bench, watching children run across the playground.

“That’s a loaded question,” she said. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Why else would I be here?”

“Fair enough. Well the Qur’an says that a Muslim can’t marry a non-Muslim. I’m not leaving Islam-”

“Which means that I would have to be Muslim.”

She nodded, looking away.

“So if I was Muslim, you’d marry me?” he asked.

“How else did you expect to have four kids?”

He laughed as they watched two boys taking turns pushing each other on the swings.

“Mama and I talked,” she continued. “And I’ll admit that it didn’t make a lot of sense to me initially. But the more I thought about it, the more I realised that I don’t have anyone in my life who really understands me.”

“What do you mean?”

“All my friends ever talk about are boys and drinking, and I feel like they judge me for not doing the same things as them. Idriss always makes fun of me for being the perfect child, but he doesn’t understand that our parents are much stricter with me than they are with him. I never feel Muslim enough for mama, or French enough for the people here.”

“And what about me?”

“I’m not liberal enough for you.”

“In politics?”

“No, in life. It’s the little things, like dancing in public or being physically intimate. I can’t date you either.”

“But we’ve already been on a date, remember?”

“That wasn’t a date, I was helping you set up for the fun fair.”

“Were you? Because I don’t recall you doing a lot of work.”

Imane looked down, “That’s the problem. I need someone who reminds me of my faith when I have trouble remembering. Not someone who will push me away from it because he thinks I’m not _free_ enough.”

“I don’t need to be Muslim to do that for you.”

“You do. Because when we have different values, I feel like I have to leave you to do what’s right for me. It never quite feels like we’re on the same page. I want to feel like I belong with my husband, not constantly at war with the way he lives his life.”

This silenced him.

“I understand that it’s a lot to ask,” Imane said, facing him. “And I don’t expect you to change your beliefs. You’re entitled to your doubts and convictions. They make you who you are, and I could never take that away.”

“That’s understandable, but why didn’t you tell me this earlier? After everything that happened with Idriss, I thought we were finally getting somewhere.”

Imane grimaced, “I just don’t think I was ready to do that. Least of all over text.”

“How come?”

“Do you ever have that dream? The one you’ve been seeing for years, hoping one day it’ll finally happen? I wasn’t ready to let it go.”

He bit his lip trying to disguise his smile. “And what dream would that be?”

She rolled her eyes, “You don’t want to know.”

At a later time, he would reflect on this triumph and the smallest of confessions. However now, he had a different question for her.

“Can we at least be friends? I missed you.”

Imane nodded, “As long as you promise not to walk me home.”

He laughed. She stayed in the park as he left westward with indefinite questions.

…

Basile had reminded the girls that Daphné’s birthday was coming up, and both of their groups gathered in Lucas’ shared flat to plan a party for her.

“First we need a location,” Arthur said.

“Let’s go to the MJC,” Alexia suggested, smiling at him.

The _maison des jeunes et de la culture_ was a community arts and youth centre. However, it was also Sofiane’s workplace.

“We can ask Sofiane,” Emma added. “Does anyone have his number?”

Manon turned to Imane, but she shook her head. Lucas was sitting beside her, and could sense her hesitation.

“I have it,” he said.

Imane raised her eyebrows, while the rest of them explored gift ideas.

Lucas motioned for her phone, “I can talk to him for you.”

“I don’t have his number.”

“You can’t tell me that you don’t have it memorised,” Lucas whispered. “I might be dumb, but I’m not blind.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Imane replied.

“Would you rather talk to him yourself?”

“Fine.”

She added Sofiane’s number into her phone, and handed it to Lucas.

“I’m going to go pray,” she informed him. “Can I use your room?”

“Sure,” he shrugged.

…

Imane was used to praying in the room, as it had been Manon’s before she moved across the hall. She wasn’t too close to Lucas’ other roommates, Mika and Lisa, and did not want to disturb them.

The room was generally empty, with Eliott occasionally making an entrance because he forgot his keys or was running late for work.

She found a nice, carpeted space in the back of the room and began to pray. The apartment was spacious, but the laughter from the living area interrupted her thoughts. Voices echoed through the halls.

“Sometimes I worry that Daphné doesn’t know how much we love her,” she overheard. “Since the situation with her mother…”

“Oh Basile, you’re the perfect boyfriend.” Emma gushed.

The last words evoked a certain numbness in her, as she remembered how she too, thought that she had found the perfect man. And now they would be just friends.

Maybe it was foolish of her to agree to keep him in her life, since she had liked him for so long. The only other man she had flirted with was Lucas, but that was to tease him.

In frustration, she accidentally bumped into a pile of miscellaneous items on the floor and knocked over a book. Upon returning it, she saw a note in Idriss’ handwriting bookmarked in a copy of  _ L’Étranger _ .

Before she could inspect it, she heard a knock on the door.

“Imane, I think we have a problem.”


	3. Just Tell Me How

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lucas Lallement fix you were looking for.

“You know about Eliott?” Imane asked, opening the door.

Lucas stepped back and furrowed his brows, “What? Is Eliott okay?”

“Of course,” she said. “Why wouldn’t he be okay?”

“I don’t know, you were the one who brought it up.”

Imane shook her head, “It’s nothing.”

He pursed his lips. “Fine, I guess I won’t tell you about Sofiane.”

She rested her head against the wall for a moment and smiled, before motioning for Lucas to enter the room. 

...

“What’s that?” he asked, eyeing the  _ Albert Camus  _ book in Imane’s hands. 

“You tell me,” she said. “I found it in your room.”

Lucas laughed, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you found a kidney in my room at this point.”

This was true. Most of the room was marked with disarray, from the blanket that was dragging unevenly against the floor to the pile of clothes on the study chair. No matter how much Lucas tried to organise it, Mika or Lisa would always leave surprises for him to take care of.

However, neither of his roommates liked to read, and Manon would never be so careless as to leave her material behind.

“Maybe it’s Eliott’s,” he shrugged.

“So you’ve never seen this before?”

“I don’t think so, why?”

She turned the pages until the note was visible to him. 

“J'étais si près de toi que j'ai froid près des autres,” he stammered, reading it. He drowned into his bed, pondering. “It’s by Paul Éluard.” 

The quotation translated to:  _ I was so close to you that I now feel cold near others _ . 

”Since when do you read poetry?” Imane teased.

“Since Eliott. But if you tell anyone-”

“I won’t, don’t worry.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” she added. “I just found it strange to find this here because I recognised the handwriting as my brother’s.”

“That makes no sense,” he said. “I’ve never even talked to Idriss.”

Imane bit her lip as Lucas continued, “Unless-”

He skimmed through the chapters, searching for traces of other notes. There was no sign-out sheet either, to indicate that it was anything but a personal copy.

“Do you think Eliott and Idriss know each other?” he asked.

It was an open question, and one of the many possibilities that rushed through his mind. Eliott was incredibly private, which often left Lucas in the dark, searching for his own answers.

“I don’t know,” Imane said. “I don’t keep tabs on all of my brother’s friends.”

“Except for Sofiane,” he winked.

She frowned, so Lucas changed the topic.

“Themes of alienation and meaning are evident in the novel,” he said. “This is definitely something Eliott would like.” 

“How could you pick up all of that so quickly? You haven’t even read the book.”

“I don’t need to,” he said, passing it to her. “Sometimes you just need to pick up the most important information.”

“Okay Einstein,” she folded her arms. “What does all of this mean?”

Lucas pondered, stroking a hand through his hair.

“Some time ago, Eliott tried to make an animated short film called Polaris. It’s a love story between two characters from different universes, but they can’t be together unless one of them leaves their world. What if Idriss is Polaris, as they try to connect different cultures?”

Imane threw a pillow at him. “Why is romance the only story anyone thinks of? Haven’t you ever considered that it was about mental illness? Or maybe just a guy finding a place where he belongs?”

“Just hear me out. Sofiane wanted to know who was coming to the party, so I mentioned that Eliott would be there. I haven’t heard from him since.”

“Maybe he had something to do?” she suggested.

“Meuf, that boy would drop anything just to talk to you.”

“But he’s not Muslim,” she sighed. “So what’s the point?” 

“He’s not?”

“No,” she said. “I thought you would’ve seen that in the messages.”

“Imane,” Lucas whispered, stroking her arm. “I want you to know that I would never do that to you. And if anyone tries to hurt you, I promise I’ll destroy them myself.”

They sat together in silence, comforting each other. She rested her head on his shoulders as he brushed her back. It would be a while until the rest of the group discovered them, but for now at least they knew that they were not alone.

…

“Surprise!”

Confetti and glitter flew through the air as Daphné entered the room. She collapsed into Basile’s arms as he held her. The girls circled around them, worried.

“Is she going to be alright?” Emma whispered.

“Yes,” Basile answered. He turned to his girl friend, “How are you feeling my love?”

Daphné burst into a fit of laughter. “Did I just faint?”

“I’d hope not,” he said. “Because we have more surprises for you.”

The girls dispersed, and she saw that the MJC hall had been transformed with lights and banners. Her name was written across a white ribbon that Alexia pinned onto her pale pink sweater as a group of voices chanted “Happy Birthday” to her.

Daphné ran towards the crowd that was filled with her friends, greeting each of them. Arthur set up the projector as everyone settled in, revealing a video that Basile had made for her.

Montages of her friends graced the screen, each with their own sentiments.

“I think we can all agree that we love you,” Imane concluded. “Because you always know how to make us smile.”

Tears brimmed from her eyes as she embraced Basile and the girls.

“Thank you,” she said as they brought out her cake. “You have no idea how much it means to me.”

Basile kissed her forehead, knowing that her mother would not remember her day.

“I love you,” he’d say as they danced together, trying to stretch out their time together for as long as he could. He hoped that it would be enough.

…

Imane searched the party for Sofiane. She had not heard from him since Lucas texted him, and was beginning to worry. It was unlike him to avoid her for so long. 

Looking around the room, Imane noticed her friends were all with partners. Emma was laughing with Alex, Daphné with Basile, and even Alexia had managed to gain Arthur’s attention. Manon laughed as Mika chided nonsense into her ears. Even Lucas was surrounded by love, as Eliott lit up the room by his side.

“What’s wrong?” Idriss asked, tapping her shoulder.

“Sofiane won’t talk to me,” she said. “I think it’s about Eliott.”

“Eliott’s here?”

“Yeah, he came with Lucas.”

His face clouded. “Thanks for letting me know.”

He walked away before she could say anything.

...

When she was finally able to find Sofiane, he glowered.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“You’re really going to ask me that? After inviting Eliott?”

“I didn’t invite him, but he is my friend.”

“Imane, you were there. You know what happened.”

“Not with you, apparently.”

His expression darkened as he studied her. “I see. Then I hope you’ll understand, but I can’t do this right now.”

Sofiane walked away briskly, leaving the room. Alone, she allowed herself to eat some snacks before going upstairs to the washroom.

It was after that Daphné’s party began to drain on her, washing away everything but the image that ingrained itself in Imane’s mind. 

In the very room where they had their first date, there stood Manon and Sofiane. Their arms cast shadows over their faces, and all she could remember was her best friend leaning in to kiss the man that she loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eid Mubarak, my loves! Sending my best wishes to all those observing today or tomorrow, I hope you have a wonderful holiday. Season 4 may end today, but this fic isn't going anywhere. Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think, and until next time!


	4. We've Come So Far

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imane's fantasies are back, and this time Idriss looks to settle old scores. He makes one fatal mistake: trying to forget Eliott.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a long time coming, so thank you all for your patience. Prompts and suggestions are always appreciated, and I hope you like this chapter!

_ “I want to introduce you to someone,” he whispered into her ear, greeting her at the door. _

_ She had never been to his apartment before, and was surprised by the invitation. It was a step forward into their relationship, as she continued to learn more about him. _

_ Sofiane seldom discussed his own cultural upbringing, so she was entranced by the several glass lanterns that marked the foyer. The lights illuminated his face, marking his strong cheekbones and enigmatic hair.  _

_ Imane wanted to reach out and caress his face, but forbid herself from doing so for propriety’s sake. It would be even more embarrassing if someone from the Masjid discovered them together. Instead she tried to focus on the details of his space, to forget about his grace. _

_ She noticed that each lantern came with a distinct mosaic pattern, and that none of them looked identical. Some were blue, some were red, and some were a myriad of every shade imaginable.  _

_ There was no apparent colour scheme in the flat, but for once, she didn’t mind. There was nothing commercial about the home, nothing conventional in its beauty. The walls were orange and the tiles were patterned, yet there was something about it that felt familiar. _

_ “My mother loves keeping souvenirs from Morocco,” he explained, noticing her wandering eye. _

_ There were images from all over the country that decorated the walls and shelves. Imane searched the frames for a portrait of Sofiane from when he was younger, but found none. _

_ He noticed her frowning and asked her if something was wrong, but she shook her head. _

_ This is where she wanted to be, that much she knew. _

_ Perhaps too entranced by the situation, she did not realise that she was still standing at the entrance until he beckoned for her to come in. A subtle tap on her shoulder sent shivers down her spine, as she followed him down a long corridor. After a few moments, he paused, meeting her gaze.  _

_ His eyes were warm as they fell upon her face, amused by her nervousness. _

_ “You don’t have to worry,” he said. “I know you’ll love her. She’s waited a long time to meet you.” _

_ Her heart began to race at the thought of meeting Sofiane’s mother. He had offhandedly mentioned to her once that his parents did not know that she was black. She had teased that hers did not know that he was Arab, and they had shared the obscure fatality of their situation. It now dawned upon her exactly how adverse the consequences were.  _

_ Panic rushed through her as she worried about making a good impression. She had been told all her life that she was too aggressive, too emotional. Students would make fun of her in elementary school, and would complain to her teachers when she punched them for calling her an  _ **_Oreo_ ** _. _

_ Nothing she did ever felt like enough for anyone, so why would his mother think otherwise? _

_ With dread, she slowly entered his living room. On the sofa sat Manon, smiling at her. _

_ He turned towards her and uttered the last words she thought that she would ever hear from him. _

_ “Imane, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend.” _

_... _

“No,” she screamed, only to realise that she had been daydreaming after she was awoken by a loud thud.

“What happened?” Idriss asked, running into the room. 

He noticed that some of her books were on the floor, and rushed to pick them up.

“It’s nothing,” she groaned, “I fell asleep while trying to decipher that  _ thing _ . I don’t understand how knowing anything about literature will help me become a surgeon.”

He laughed, knowing very well that she was referring to  _ La Princesse de Clèves,  _ a novel he had read when he was in high school. After setting her books on the table, Idriss took a seat beside her.

“Sometimes we have to do things we don’t like, even if we don’t understand why.”

“I know,” she said. “I just don’t think I have it in me right now.”

“Do you need help?”

He studied her carefully, unsure of how to address her fears. This was the most stressed he had seen her in years.

“From you?” she joked.

“Why not? I did  _ very _ well in literature, you know.”

An image of the  _ L’Étranger  _ copy in Lucas’ room flashed through mind, so she merely nodded.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, noting her hesitation to meet his gaze.

“You’ve been so jumpy since that party,” he continued, watching her flinch.

She shook her head, “I can’t focus. How am I supposed to pass the exam?”

“Imane, you don’t have to lie to me. I know it’s about Sofiane.”

“That’s absurd,” she winced, secretly relieved that he didn’t bring up Eliott.

“Is it? Because he’s been asking about you constantly, and told me everything.”

She raised her eyebrows before huffing, “Then how can you expect anything to work between us when I saw him making out with my best friend?”

Idriss stood up abruptly, creasing his brow. “Sofiane kissed Alexia?”

“Not Alexia, Manon.”

He clenched his fists and left the room abruptly. 

“Where are you going?” she asked, chasing him. 

“He’s going to get what he deserves,” Idriss said in a low voice, unlocking the apartment door. 

“Don’t hurt him,” she called after him, but he had already left. Whether her words had reached him did not matter, because he had one thing on his mind, and that was to protect his sister.  

…

“I didn’t expect to see you here this early,” he said, greeting Idriss that morning.

It was 8 a.m. on a Sunday, and Sofiane was setting up for a soccer game. He coached a junior team on the weekends, and was looking forward to today’s practice. The young boys had improved significantly over the past several months, and he enjoyed playing with them. 

His friend, however, did not share his enthusiasm. 

Sofiane saw Idriss raise his fist towards him, and ducked his head.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, stepping away.

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” Idriss sneered.

“I didn’t do anything,” he shrugged. “I haven’t heard from Imane in days.”

“I never said it was about her, so how would you know if you didn’t do anything wrong?”

“Well it sure can’t be about Eliott.”

Idriss’ veins throbbed from his neck at the sound of Eliott’s name. They hadn’t spoken about him since Sofiane had left for Australia. Before the last fight that broke apart the friend group.

“What do you know?” he asked Sofiane.

“I can’t say, we never talked about it. All I know is that when I returned, he was gone.”

Idriss folded his arms and leaned against the goal post.

“He’s back though, isn’t he? Sofiane, I saw you talking to him at the party.”

“Maybe I did, but why does that matter? Eliott’s my friend.”

“So you still talk to him?’

“I don’t see how that’s any of your concern. And it’s certainly not why you came here. Spit it out, before the kids get here.”

“Fine,” Idriss snarled. “I came here because I got sick of you making excuses to talk to my little sister. Do you think you deserve to be with her after everything you’ve done?”

“I didn’t make up any anything. Imane saw us together and screamed, but nothing happened.”

“But it was going to?”

“No Idriss, I would never do that to Imane. I love her.”

“Oh,” he said, surprised by the declaration. “Well I suppose I should be congratulating you then. Or perhaps you should be thanking me, since I have a few more questions that might get you out of this mess.”

They talked some more, and Idriss waited for Sofiane’s shift to finish. Then they walked towards home, this time  _ together _ .

...

Imane finished praying, and heard two notifications ring from her phone.

The first was from the group chat with the girls that read: 

**Did you hear that Sofiane and Manon are together? Our plan worked!**

However, the other was more pressing. 

**Urgent. Come over. Eliott told me everything about Sofiane and Idriss.**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, and please let me know your thoughts! I'm open to suggestions, so if there's anything you'd like to see, please feel free to share! If you'd like to reach me, you can also find me on [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/ifrahholmes/).


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